


Don't Ask, Don't Tell

by clockworksilence



Series: Something I Can't Have [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Booker | Sebastian le Livre & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Friendship, Booker | Sebastien le Livre-centric, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Team Bonding, Team as Family, adventures in sebastien le livres chronic avoidance of his feelings, and a little angst, and his friends are trying to help, booker is a disaster bi, kaysanova, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworksilence/pseuds/clockworksilence
Summary: "Even if it’s not the first time."Of all the words said in his conversation with Booker, those were the six that kept coming back to Joe for the remainder of the evening. Even curled up in bed beside Nicky, resting his head on his chest, listening to the calming, rhythmic beat of his heart twinned with the chirping cicadas outside while Nicky read, the book propped up on his stomach, his mind kept going back to it: "not the first time".And why had Booker been dwelling on it? Any other ridiculous dream like that, you throw it to one side and carry on. Why had he been giving it so much thought?
Relationships: Andy | Andromache/Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Something I Can't Have [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179074
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Don't Ask, Don't Tell

While several of their safehouses lacked many of the comforts of the modern world – their primary and often sole function was to simply be a roof over their heads - there were one or two that had been used so frequently over the past century or so that, over time, more effort and resources had been put towards them to make them a bit more home-like. The projects often served as distractions; something to focus on between jobs or when the disconnect between themselves and the world verged towards overwhelming. Other times, building a home, a life, gave them all the illusion of normalcy.

It was an illusion Booker clung to much more tightly than the others. Which was probably why he was often the one to put the effort in to making them more comfortable.

The Murcia house was one such project and it was helping to distract him again now.

It took two whole days before anybody noticed that Booker was actively distancing himself from the them. After extricating himself from the excruciating experience of sitting next to Joe at breakfast, knowing the dream he’d had of him hours before, Booker had spent much of the first day trying to coax the 30-year-old generator back into life. It was easier to explain why you weren’t around if you were also finding a way to get the lights on.

By the second day, things were made a little more obvious.

With the power now going, Andy, Joe and Nicky had spent much of the day curled together on one of the couches in the lounge watching the old, black and white movies that Andy liked, enjoying the nostalgia of the Golden Age. Dial M For Murder, Strangers on a Train, the now-familiar anecdote of the fling Andy had with Errol Flynn _and_ Lili Damita... The background noise of their ongoing commentary interspersed with laughter the soundtrack to Booker’s unnecessary quest through the Dark Web for C4.

By the time darkness fell and Casablanca was getting going, it was Joe who finally noticed that, though he’d been sitting with them while they relaxed, Booker had hardly been engaging with them at all.

Looking over to him for the hundredth time that day, wondering why every time he did Booker seemed to resolutely avoiding his gaze, instead hunching over the keys of his laptop, brow furrowed in concentration, he eventually caved. He clambered up from his position between Andy and Nicky on the couch in the common area and approached him.

“Booker?” Joe’s tone was quiet.

Booker looked up from the screen of his laptop and for the first time in two days gave him direct eye contact.

“Yeah?”

Joe looked cautiously over to Nicky and Andy who, aside from watching the film, were now enacting it themselves, talking over the lines of the movie with their own rendition.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Booker nodded, placing the laptop to one side, and followed Joe to the makeshift bedroom to the rear Booker had claimed as his own. The scene of the crime. 

He got a little nervous as Joe gently closed the door behind them. This was getting uncomfortably familiar. He took a seat at the foot of the bed nonetheless.

“Listen, I know things have been a little… Off lately. With you.” Joe began, uncertain, folding his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. “And maybe I’m imagining it but it feels like it’s something to do with me.”

Booker immediately felt guilty but said nothing.

“And if it’s anything I’ve done or said, tell me what it is, tell me how I can make it right,” he continued with sincerity. “If you’re mad at me, or-”

“I’m not mad at you,” Booker interrupted, guilt finally forcing his voice.

Joe stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re not?”

“No, I’m not,” Booker continued. “It’s nothing you’ve done, it’s...”

He paused, hanging his head, wondering if there was a way he could tell him the real reason he’d been keeping his distance and not have things be strained. Anything would be more comfortable than the past 48 hours had been and after all they’d been through together, Joe had earnt nothing but the truth but the idea of saying anything about that dream, particularly to the person it was about…

But Joe was wounded. Confused. It wasn’t fair.

“I… I had a dream,” Booker began, shifting on the mattress, resolutely staring at the well-worn floorboards.

“Yes?”

“An… Intimate one,” he continued, feeling crimson burning in his cheeks “About you.”

Booker finally chanced a look back up and saw Joe’s face, the very picture of relief, and watched as he suppressed a laugh

“That what’s been bothering you?” Joe asked, mildly incredulous.

“Well, yeah,” Booker replied, pride taking a dent that Joe didn’t seem to think it was serious.

“And you’ve been thinking about this for two days?”

Booker nodded, embarrassment rising. “I didn’t know if it there was anything to it.”

“You’re not secretly in love with me, are you?” Joe was deadpan but the sparkle of fun in his eyes was undeniable.

Booker’s weary glare soon fixed that. “You’re all Nicky’s, I promise.”

“Well, what’s the problem?” Joe soothed, laughing a little, unfolding his arms. “Come on, Book. We all have dreams like that about people sometimes, It doesn’t always mean anything.”

“Even if it’s not the first time?” Booker asked, reticent.

There was a brief silence while Joe processed Booker’s words. The laughter faded and his brow furrowed.

“Not the first time?” Joe repeated.

“I mean, it’s the first time it was you,” Booker clarified. “But it’s not the first time I’ve-”

He thought for a moment, of telling him about the other dreams. The other men. The other feelings, centuries old that he was still not ready to confront.

“It doesn’t matter,” Booker decided, shaking his head, rising from his seat and making to leave.

Joe’s worry was palpable. “Booker, what-?”

“Not now, Joe. I can’t...” Booker sighed, defeated, and opened the door. “Let’s just go back and watch the movie.”

Joe stepped to one side and watched as Booker walked back into the lounge and took up his seat on the periphery. Far from helping the situation, Joe couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow made it worse.

There were more questions here that needed answering.

***

_Even if it’s not the first time._

Of all the words said in his conversation with Booker, those were the six that kept coming back to Joe for the remainder of the evening. Even curled up in bed beside Nicky hours later, resting his head on his chest, listening to the calming, rhythmic beat of his heart twinned with the chirping cicadas outside while Nicky read, the book propped up on his stomach, his mind kept going back to it: _not the fir_ _s_ _t time._

And why had Booker been dwelling on it? Any other ridiculous dream like that, you throw it to one side and carry on. Why had he been giving it so much thought?

He should just forget it. It was a throw-away comment. He was reading too much into it. Joe tried to close his eyes to sleep but he couldn’t settle.

It wasn’t his story to tell. He wasn’t sure if what he suspected was even true but it would drive him crazy if he didn’t say something and he couldn’t keep anything from Nicky, especially if it involved the well-being of one of their own.

“I spoke to Booker earlier,” Joe announced quietly, diving straight in.

“Hmm?” Nicky was only really half-listening, his eyes glued to the tome before him.

“Booker,” Joe repeated. “He’s been… Weird the past few days.”

“I had noticed,” Nicky replied, still reading. “Is he okay?”

Joe sighed. “I’m not completely sure.”

Nicky drew his eyes from the page and glanced down to Joe, worry lining his face the second he saw how preoccupied Joe seemed.

“What is it, love?” He asked, gently closing the book and placing it on the table to the side.

“I asked what was bothering him,” Joe began, shifting slightly to look at Nicky more comfortably. “He said he’d had an… Odd dream.”

“What about?”

Joe laughed, a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t at all concerned about Nicky being jealous. It was and awkward thing to have to say and he was still questioning whether he had any right to say it at all.

“About me.”

A grin played at the corners of Nicky’s mouth. “Really?”

“Apparently it was kind of a hot one.”

If Nicky was shocked or surprised, he was hiding it well.

“Well, I don’t suppose I can hold that against him,” he intoned softly after a moment, eyes alive with fondness. “You are a very sexy man, Joe...”

Even after almost a millennia, that Nicky could still find ways to flirt that gave Joe butterflies was utterly astonishing.

“I told him it was just a dream," Joe continued, making a note to circle back to the flirting later, "that they don’t mean anything but I don’t know...”

Nicky frowned, wondering at the consideration Joe had been giving this.

“What is it?” He pressed gently.

Joe sighed, wondering how best to phrase his concern.

“He seemed so genuinely confused and worried about it. You saw him, he was off for two days. And he said it wasn’t the first dream like it he’d had, just the first one involving me...”

He could feel himself drifting into obscurity. As always, one look at Nicky tethered him back.

“...I just, I wonder if it means there’s _s_ _omething_ he’s suppressing.”

Nicky nodded sagely. He knew a thing or two about repressing feelings. He also knew if you push things down too hard for too long, the pressure could cause a meltdown.

“You want to talk to him about it?” Nicky asked.

Joe snorted dismissively. “When was the last time Booker ever talked about anything personal?”

“That may be so, but if you think there’s something new developing with him, you know as well as I it is a difficult thing to go through alone.”

Once again, Nicky’s capacity for compassion warmed Joe’s heart.

“I’ll try and talk to him tomorrow,” Joe said, hoisting himself up and leaning over Nicky, gently kissing him.

“Now, what were you saying about me being a sexy man…?”


End file.
